“Yes, we do,” several kids insisted. Then Shaylee popped up and sealed the deal. “Pleeease.”
Layla quietly laughed and glanced at Quin, who kept his mouth shut, unwilling to pressure her.
“Okay,” she agreed. “But everyone has to lie down and close their eyes.”
The kids quickly obeyed, and Layla waited for the squeaking of cots to fade before murmuring to Quin. “Feel free to jump in anytime.”
He smiled, unwilling to make promises, and she took a deep breath before releasing it with a soft song. He didn’t recognize the lyrics, so he figured they were hexless, but Layla sang so beautifully she could have mesmerized the tent with the alphabet song.
Farrow had rested his cheek on Quin’s shoulder, sucking his fist while gazing at his mom; and his siblings’ suction slowed as emotional tears brightened their big, green eyes. The rest of the children didn’t make a peep, and many of them had fallen asleep by the end of the first song, but Layla played it safe and sang one more. Quin didn’t dare tell her the silencing spells around the tent only worked one way, allowing those outside to listen in on the kids, and at the moment, everyone was probably tuned in, unable to party while an angel serenaded babies.
When she fell silent, no one objected, but only because she’d lured them into a state of tranquility. She scanned the auras slowly swirling over the cots. Then she looked at Quin. He’d been staring at her the whole time, his lips pressed to Farrow’s soft hair as he watched over his head, but she’d avoided his gaze until now.
“Perfect,” he whispered. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“You didn’t jump in.”
“I don’t know the lyrics. You should teach me.”
“I have the CD in my car.”
His smile widened. Then he turned his attention on Farrow, keeping him busy until it was his turn to eat.
Once every child was asleep and the triplets were surrounded by spells, Quin opened the canvas flaps, and Layla flashed her gaze around the tent before leaving it. “Will we be able to hear them?”
Quin stifled a grin. “Yeah.”
“Good,” she mumbled. Then her spine straightened. “Wait a minute... Everyone out here can hear everything that goes on in there?”
“If they listen.”
“So I sang for the whole lawn?”
“Probably.”
She rubbed her forehead as her cheeks flamed. Then she sighed and shrugged. “Oh, well. Even if I’d known, I probably couldn’t have said no. I’m a sucker.”
“Who sings like an angel. Come on.” He took her hand and led her toward the party, which was louder and rowdier than when they left it. “We have less than an hour before we kiss our way into the new year.”
That promise alone was enough to keep Layla awake. Plus she loved watching Quin dismiss his burdens and have a good time. He made his mom’s night by asking her to dance to one of her favorite songs, and he made Weylin’s night by accepting his challenges and wagers.
He finished two more glasses of scotch while waiting for midnight, and he shared a round of shots with his friends. But when he pulled Layla close for the countdown, he’d gotten the booze off his breath, and he wasn’t the least bit sloppy as he dipped her into a deep kiss beneath magical fireworks.
Her fingers fumbled into his hair, her eyelids flashing with exploding lights, and her knees wobbled as her muscles melted. The breath he’d stolen was replaced by his soothing scent, yet her lungs heaved for more as her veins swelled over warm waves of blood.
Everyone else had moved on to singing and proclaiming their mirth by the time Quin straightened, but he didn’t rush to wrap up their kiss. His strong arms kept her in a tight hug as his lips slowly closed around her pout. Then he slid a hand to her cheek and whispered. “Happy New Year.”
She took a stuttering breath while finding the wits to speak. “Happy New Year.”
He inhaled the wish, as if taking it into his lungs would make it come true. Then his lips curved around hers. “This was a first for me.”
She opened her eyes, finding golden fireworks flashing in his espresso gaze. “First what?”
“First time I’ve kissed a woman at midnight on New Year’s Eve.”
Her pulse quickened as her heart swelled. “Really?”
“Really. I’ve been waiting for you, Layla. You’ve been on my mind the first and last minute of every year since I was old enough to take part in this tradition. Now that you’re here, I get to observe it with the woman of my dreams, which means this is already the best year of my life.”
She grinned and curled her fingers in his hair, keeping him close. “It was a first for me, too.”
“That makes it even better.”
“Let’s do it again.”
His dimples deepened. Then he tightened his hold and dipped her into another soul-quaking kiss.
They eventually separated so they could hug and kiss their family, and once the spells stopped flying and the alcohol fueled choruses faded, a loud whistle zipped across the clearing, grabbing the crowd’s attention.
Layla left Serafin’s hug and looked over, finding Kegan and Brietta holding champagne flutes while waiting for silence. Cinnia and Arlen bustled through the throng with trays, making sure everyone had a drink, and Brietta impatiently played with the gemstone on her necklace.
As soon as her grandparents quit working and had their drinks in hand, Brietta lifted her glass higher. “We got some fantastic news a few days ago, but we wanted to wait until tonight to announce it. Thanks to your help, we’ve met our goal and found homes for every orphan left at the refugee camp.”
Vociferous approval rose from her audience, and she grinned at Kegan while waiting for quiet. “We’re flying to their camp tomorrow morning to let them know. Then the countdown to the wedding begins.”
This excited several witches in the crowd, and Brietta barely finished her toast with a drink before being rushed by a feminine wave.
Layla laughed at how quickly Kegan got out of the way. Then she turned to Quin and pulled him into a kiss. “I should pretend I’m normal and join the girls.”
“I think Bri would like that.”
She stole one more kiss before letting him go. Then she severed their attachment and walked away.
Shortly after Layla got close enough to congratulate her cousin with a kiss on the cheek, someone asked about the wedding dress, and Brietta jumped at the chance to model the gown for her friends.
“It’s at my grandma’s,” she announced, grabbing Layla’s hand. “Girls only.”
Layla scanned the lawn as she let Brietta drag her to Cinnia’s, and when she found Quin, he laughed and tapped into her head. ‘It’ll be fun. Find me when you’re done.’
She smiled to let him know she heard. Then she looked away and vowed to focus on the bride-to-be.
Brietta made it easy. She was always the life of the party, and she was in a particularly cheery mood and buzzed on bubbly. Around two-dozen witches had filed into Cinnia’s for the viewing, and snacks were served while drinks were refilled. Brietta took her time emptying her glass. Then she stripped down to nothing in the middle of Cinnia’s living room.
As it was bound to do in a room full of libertine witches, the chatter turned to sex, and though Layla had been around long enough to expect racy discussions, she worried the subject would make Aradia uncomfortable. She threw a tentative glance at the expurgator, expecting red cheeks, tucked shoulders and a withdrawn aura, but Aradia wasn’t blushing at all, and rather than shrink into a shell, she observed the gossiping witches like a scientist watching her test subjects. She soaked up every word and reaction, contemplated them and stored them away, and her wide eyes expressed intrigue while her smile proved she was having fun.
Great. Layla remained the shyest witch in the coven.
“So what about babies?” someone asked.
“There are some outside,” Brietta returned, admiring her slender profile in a mirror.
&nbs
p; Cinnia laughed and knelt beside her granddaughter, fussing over the hem of her lacy gown. “I think that was her way of saying she doesn’t plan on giving me great-grandkids anytime soon.”
Brietta flashed a smile at the top of Cinnia’s head. “This coven can only handle so much sweetness at once, and we just got a whole litter of cuties for you to spoil. Keg and I might be rushing the wedding, but we have no plans to rush babies.”
Kegan’s sister raised an eyebrow while refilling Brietta’s champagne. “But you’ve talked about it, right? After seeing him around Shaylee, I’d bet my magic he wants kids.”
Brietta took a sip, trying to hide a cheesy grin with the glass. “Shaylee could make anyone fall in love. But, yeah, Kegan wants to have my babies.”
Several people laughed at her smart-ass reply. Then a sweet conversation ensued as Kegan’s mom recalled the time he gave Brietta his brand new kitten because he refused to tell her no or make her cry.
Once Brietta had changed out of her gown, the witches started to disperse, and Layla stifled a yawn while glancing at the clock – past one in the morning. She fought heavy lids as she waited for a chance to talk to Brietta, who avoided her until Skyla was the only other person in the house.
Brietta grabbed a fresh bottle of champagne and turned toward them. “Thanks for staying.” She topped off her and Skyla’s drinks. Then she poured a tiny sip into a clean glass for Layla. “Here, one toast won’t hurt your titty milk.”
Layla laughed as she accepted the flute. “What are we toasting?”
“Hopefully your agreement. I want you and Sky to stand with me at the wedding.”
Skyla squealed and wrapped Brietta in a tight hug. “You know I will.”
“I do know,” Brietta laughed. “But I’m not as certain about Layla.”
Layla tilted her head, stung by her cousin’s doubt. “Of course I’ll stand with you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Bri. I love you.”
Brietta’s aura swelled as she moved in for a hug. “I love you, too. And you don’t have to do anything but dress up and show up. I know you’re busy with the babies, so I don’t want you taking responsibility for wedding tasks. I just want you to be there for me.” She grinned and nudged Layla with an elbow. “Plus you’ll get to walk down the aisle with Quin.”
Layla kept her smile in place, unwilling to belittle the value of weddings in front of her engaged cousin, but the last thing she and Quin needed was pressure to get married.
Brietta must have noticed Layla’s discomfort, because she stepped back and scowled. “You’re going to marry him someday, right?”
Layla shrugged and played with the lip of her glass. “I don’t have time to worry about that right now.”
“I know he’ll ask,” Brietta predicted. Then her mouth fell open. “Wait a minute… No way! He already has and you turned him down!”
Layla quickly shook her head. “He hasn’t proposed.”
“Oh.” Brietta’s lungs deflated. “That’s kind of weird.”
“He’s mentioned it, but he knows I don’t want to get married right now, so he hasn’t asked.”
“Right now,” Skyla repeated. “You’ve said that twice, which means there’s a chance.”
Layla saw no harm in letting them think so. “Sure. But this one’s for Bri and Keg, so enough about me. Who will walk with Sky?”
“Weylin,” Brietta answered, glancing at Skyla out of the corner of her eye. “And Bann’s giving me away. Grandma and Grandpa will officiate.”
“That will be sweet,” Layla approved. “It will be a beautiful wedding.” She raised her glass, encouraging them to do the same. “To Brietta and Kegan.”
“To you and Sky,” Brietta countered. “I love you girls.”
When Layla returned to the lawn, the party had mellowed, and most of the guests sat around a bonfire, smoking and chatting. Quin wasn’t among them, so Layla headed for the children’s tent.
She glanced around while quietly stepping inside, but Quin wasn’t there, and the triplets were sleeping soundly, still wrapped in his spells.
The only adult inside was Dion, a member of the Owen/Sullivan coven, and she glanced at Layla while gathering one of the children into her arms. “Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” Layla returned. “Calling it a night?”
“Yeah.”
Layla moved out of the way of the exit. Then she followed Dion out and caught her by the sleeve. “Have you seen Quin?”
“He stopped by the tent right before me. Then he left the lawn with his dad and those two bonded children. Tristan and Emrys.”
Layla scowled and bit her thumbnail, fighting the urge to chew it. “Which way did they go?”
“Toward Lann’s.”
“Thank you. Happy New Year.”
“You, too.”
Layla slid her nail through her teeth while waiting for Dion to walk away. Then she moved into the shadow of the tent and concealed her body and aura. Nerves quickened her pulse as guilt tightened her gut, but she ignored the discomfort and flew toward Lann’s. The windows were dark, so she bypassed the porch and headed for the forest.
Hopefully Quin hadn’t left the property. Surely he wouldn’t go that far without telling her, but there was a chance the liquor had hindered his judgment.
Shadows blurred into moonlight as Layla approached the back of Lann’s house. Then she came to an abrupt halt when she heard Drexel’s voice. “The institute was stripped of supplies and students. No bodies, but the place was ransacked, and there was enough evidence to know not everyone made it out alive. Given what we know of the Dark Guild’s movements and their deal with Vortigern, it’s safe to assume they were responsible.”
Layla held her breath as she floated to the corner of the house and peered into Lann’s backyard. A walkway of stones trailed to a multi-level deck built around a massive western red cedar, and Quin stood in the dark shadows of the lower level, a drink in his hand as he leaned against a wooden column. His dad stood beside him, and Drexel paced in front of him. Bryce had taken up a soldier’s stance a few feet behind his commander, and Tristan and Emrys sat on the outer railings, passing a joint while observing the discussion.
Layla was extremely uncomfortable spying on Quin, but she continued to lurk as Drexel delivered his bad news.
“Furthermore, the Maganthian Council has yet to grant us access to the buried library. They won’t even grant us an audience. They’re communicating through assistants who have no idea what’s going on. All they’ll tell us is the council members are deliberating. No details about what exactly they’re discussing or why it’s taking so long. It’s suspicious to say the least. The Dark Guild replenishing their army with Vortigern’s students was unfortunate yet inevitable, but if they’ve managed to get a foothold in Maganthia, this world is much closer to chaos than we thought.”
Quin tipped back his glass and let the rant soak in. “So what do you want me to do about it?”
Drexel halted and glared across the deck. “Your job. You only have one, and you’re failing.”
Quin narrowed his eyes as he straightened from the column. “That’s what you came here to tell me?”
“Someone needs to do it. Do you think the Heavens blessed you with ancient powers for the hell of it? So you could hang out at home? Unlike most people, you have a vital purpose in this life, yet you sit around, avoiding it at all costs. And I assure you, the costs are the highest they’ve been since the Heavens roamed this earth.”
“We had a deal, Drexel. March.”
“This isn’t about our deal. This is about preventing an apocalyptic disaster. There’s only one person who can do it, and you’re supposed to be helping her, yet you’re sheltering her. You’re not here to play house with the earth angel, Quin. You’re here to ensure she fulfills her purpose, regardless of the costs.”
Quin’s jaw flexed as his chest rose with heavy breaths, his aura growing darker with e
very word. “You’re talking about the mother of my children.”
“They’ll be dead children if the Dark Guild succeeds. You think getting her pregnant domesticated her? She’s an angel, Quin. Her purpose is greater than your family.”
A long moment of tense silence passed as Quin stared at the commander, his tumultuous colors vibrating around edgy muscles. Then he turned away and finished his drink. After vanishing his glass, he threw a glance at Tristan and Emrys. “Do you two agree?”
Tristan exchanged a look with Emrys as he snuffed out their joint. “On which point?”
“That I’m failing?”
They shifted, hesitant to answer. Then Emrys cleared his throat and stood from the railing. “I think Drexel needs to work on his tact. Why save humanity when it’s heartless?”
Drexel flipped his glare to Emrys, but it went ignored as Emrys spoke to Quin. “To say you’re failing would do you an injustice, but I don’t think it’s out of line to say you’re avoiding what needs to be done. You have an incredible life here, so I don’t blame you for wanting to keep it, if only for a few more months, but it doesn’t look like we have time to spare. If nothing else, she should be preparing for what’s to come, and Maganthia needs to be dealt with. If the Dark Guild has corrupted their politics, we need to act now, before it gets out of hand and we’ve lost all our allies within the city.”
Tristan leaned against a post and turned his gaze toward the sky. “It’s not like Emrys and I are better than you, Quin, and we don’t get any of the rewards you get, yet we’re on the front-line. You should be there with us, fighting for the children she gave you. If the Dark Guild gets their way, nobody lives happily ever after. You’ll have to risk yours to give the rest of the world a chance.”
Layla’s face hurt from clamping her jaw shut, but the pain was nothing compared to the fiery ache in her chest. She yearned to run forward and throw herself between Quin and the wizards ganging up on him, but her numb feet were glued to the grass.
Quin kept his back to Drexel as he ran his hands through his hair and folded his fingers behind his head. “If I were to agree to leave tomorrow, where would we go?”
The Servant Page 20